


A Bit of a Thrill

by Reign_of_Glory



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: F/F, F/M, Halloween, Horny Teenagers, Teenagers, but its extremely vague, very vague reference to rape/non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23517484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reign_of_Glory/pseuds/Reign_of_Glory
Summary: She wanted to curse him for smiling as she angled her chin upward, pressing herself to him to try to close the distance.But she couldn't, and the slight agitation faded away when his lips pressed against hers.
Relationships: Heather Chandler/Jason "J. D." Dean, Heather Duke/Veronica Sawyer (Mentioned)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	A Bit of a Thrill

The buzz of conversation fuelled her as she made her way to a bathroom, closing the door and gazing at her reflection in the mirror. Thankfully, no one was in there. Although, she told herself, she could have made them leave. After all, she was the almighty Heather Chandler. 

Her costume was impeccable. A cloak was draped over her shoulders, loosely covering a dress that reached the floor. The party’s theme had been medieval - probably combatting the number of girls who would have come to the Halloween party just for an excuse to dress slutty. There was hardly anything medieval that could be counted as ‘slutty’ - unless someone had arrived wearing only a corset. That would be quite the sight, Heather thought to herself, watching her red-painted lips curl into a smirk. 

She’d gone all out for this. She’d chosen to wear a fucking _corset_ underneath her dress, after all. Heather’s mouth opened slightly as she gazed in the mirror, showcasing the vampire fangs she’d put in. She wasn’t just any medieval lady. No, Heather Chandler was a vampire for one night. 

A knock at the door made her jump, but she didn’t say anything at first. It was unlikely that the intruder would understand her, anyway. Talking around a mouthful of fangs? No thanks. Heather turned, picking up her skirts - how exactly had this been considered practical? - and shifting her focus to the pale white door. It was nothing imposing, but it suddenly had a much larger presence in the room than her reflection had. 

The knob turned. Shit. So the person was actually going to enter. That was all merry and fine; Heather hadn’t been undressed or anything, but… 

“Oh, it’s you.” She would recognise that voice anywhere. Jason Dean, though he preferred to go by “JD”. Not that Heather would actually call him that. Heather’s gaze caught his and she felt something twist inside of her. “You know,” Jason continued, smirking as he stepped inside and shut the door, “I knew you’d be a vampire.” 

“That’s bullshit, Jason,” Heather retorted, flipping her hair over her shoulder. The words sounded fine, honestly. She only sounded as if she had issues pronouncing the words ‘shit’ and ‘Jason’. He went so far as to _laugh_ at her before responding, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and guiding her out. 

“Yeah, well, I’m full of it,” he responded with another chuckle, grinning at her. “Anyway.” Jason coughed. “Before you so rudely interrupted me, Heather,” he said, “I was going to explain _my_ costume.” His grin was dangerous, Heather knew that, but she also loved it. Danger was something she enjoyed, and so was he. “You’re a vampire.” He held up what appeared to be a pitchfork in his other hand, the one not gripping her arm lightly. “I, my dear, am a vampire hunter.” He paused when she didn’t respond. “Because, you know, I’m a hunter.” Jason winked. It was a joke, and it hardly applied to the two of them, but the wink added a sense of ridiculousness to his words that would not have been there otherwise. 

Heather nearly choked on her own spit, feeling her cheeks heat up just the slightest bit. “Oh my _god_ , Jason,” she exclaimed, laughing her own small bit of laughter. “I can hardly _believe_ you just said that.” She lifted a hand to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. The two of them had emerged into the main room of the party - Kurt’s living room, from the look of it. The walls were a beige, a nice contrast to the vivid colour of the decorations. Jason chuckled, his breath on her ear. 

“Only for you,” he whispered, lowering his lips to her neck for only a moment before laughing again and shoving her away gently. “Any other day, I’d want something to drink. Maybe a beer.” Heather tilted her head, eyeing him as he reached into the pocket of his trench coat and took out a box of cigarettes. The trench coat went well with his costume, accentuating the darkness of his shirt and pants while providing a slightly lighter shade of protection from the wind. Jason leaned his pitchfork against the oat-coloured wall, fumbling with the cigarette box. 

Heather took it from him, her eyes widening only slightly when his hand brushed hers. “Not now, idiot,” she told Jason, gritting her teeth as she searched for a suitable spot to stash the box. “Later,” she said, “After…” After what? If Heather were being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure. “After we…” She could see a glint in Jason’s dark eyes, and it struck her that he was holding back his laughter - and shaking at the effort. Fuck it. “You owe me a dance.” 

It wasn’t that Heather wouldn’t enjoy a cigarette. She preferred alcohol, yes, but a smoke of any type wasn’t bad. She didn’t enjoy smoking indoors much, but she couldn’t do anything about the smell that would linger at a high school party. Jason’s smirk was infectious, and Heather soon found her own lips curling up at the edges. They refused to listen to her when she urged them to curve into a deep-set frown. “Alright,” Jason said, “Care to join me?” 

It no longer mattered that Ram was in the room, yelling at Kurt for some stupid thing he’d done. It didn’t matter that Heather Duke and Veronica were dancing together, the latter occasionally whispering things in the former’s ear that made her blush. It didn’t matter that Mac was probably getting crushed in beer pong. 

Heather took Jason’s hand, feeling only slightly awkward as she did so. She had reason to, after all. No other guy had ever tried to _dance_ with her. Only one guy had ever asked her on a date, and even that had ill intentions. Most guys all wanted the same thing, no matter how she felt on the matter - but Jason was different. He’d not asked for anything of her, only to be there for him when he needed it. And he did the same for her. 

It didn’t matter if for once, Heather actually wanted more. She’d caught herself staring at his bare chest whenever they went swimming once, and since that incident, she’d had the incident engraved in her memory. She was lucky that he always wore that goddamn trench coat, but sometimes she wished he’d just take it off. 

“Like what you see?” 

Heather brought her gaze back to Jason’s eyes and felt blood rushing to her cheeks. Well, shit. Staring hadn’t been her intention, but she had to use all her willpower to look him in the eye now. “Why wouldn’t I?” A stupid response. That was a response that was so utterly stupid. Still, Heather kept her stupid smile on her face, saying stupid words. Jason’s hands found her hips and pulled her towards the centre of the room, swaying slightly to the beat of the song that was playing. Thriller. Fitting for a Halloween party. From where she stood, she could see a group of kids imitating the film’s choreography out back. 

“I dunno, thought that the coat ruined it for most girls.” He leaned closer, smirking. It was a dangerous smirk. Heather was aware of that as she eyed his jaw, his eyes, his lips. Everything about Jason Dean screamed danger. There was something about the prospect of danger that had always drawn Heather in, though, and this was no exception. 

She allowed a smirk to cross her lips as she swayed her hips to the fast beat of the song. “It wasn’t a turn-off for Veronica,” she said, resting one hand on Jason’s shoulder. Heather hadn’t moved her gaze from his lips. She couldn’t help it, really. If one thing Duke had said about her was right, it was that she could go a week without being touched. That didn’t always mean sexually or romantically, though; she was fine with just a fist pump or a half-hug. “And I’m not so prudish. I wouldn’t say anything’s a turn-off for me.” That was a lie. But his trench coat wasn’t a turn-off. 

The song changed once more, to a slower tune that was less fit for a party and more fit for a children’s lullaby. Keeping her gaze on Jason’s lips, Heather felt her cheeks burn in the slightest as she pressed her body against Jason’s, her fingers tangling in his hair. It was obvious, what she was trying to do, and she had to curse him for being taller than she was. She wanted to curse him for smiling as she angled her chin upward, pressing herself closer to him to try to close the distance. 

But she couldn’t, and the slight agitation faded away when his lips pressed against hers. 

**Author's Note:**

> Stay healthy, everyone!


End file.
